Scent of Rain Hot breath haunts, lingers in liquid air. Old magic explores the night rhythm of time. Salt of desire, how we growl & devour life's dirt & dazzle, laugh in the eyes of the sacred.
Scent of Rain
Scent of Rain Hot breath haunts, lingers in liquid air. Old magic explores the night rhythm of time. Salt of desire, how we growl & devour life's dirt & dazzle, laugh in the eyes of the sacred.
Liquid air..it is. Full of magic. (K)
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Where would we be without magic? :)
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Indeed.
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John Dorsey, a published poet (and friend) encourages poets to share another poet’s poem at readings. I read this to open my reading last night, pointing out to the listeners how, in just a few words, you’ve captured a side of the city you call home.
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Ken, I am floored and honored! How kind of you. Thank you!
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:D
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